Augusta Fern's Blog - Posts Tagged "friendship"
Babet's Entourage...
Mrs. Lancaster Beauregard has positioned her daughter beside her rendition of the painting and hovers over her daughter as she takes questions sometimes interrupting Babet, even though she had no idea what she was talking about. Babet took it all very gracefully, smiling as she corrected her mother and her mother gesturing that of course her daughter knew more than she did.
I remained entranced and fixated if not on her than it’s the people greeting her. Her response to each of them, some with boredom others with animosity, but her face lights up when she gets a glance through the crowd of two couples.
A tall gentleman with brown hair, dressed in an Izod button-up collared shirt and khaki shorts and an extremely petite woman with light blonde hair wearing a brightly colored hi-lo dress and nude wedges were joined by a tall slender woman with dark blonde hair, she has on blue patterned shorts and a white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled to her forearms. Her wedges match her light blue eyes; she holds the hand of a hipster beatnik looking man. His black fedora is placed perfectly over his Buddy Holly glasses and his tan vest covers a white v-neck under shirt, his arms are heavily tattooed.
Babet breaks from the embrace of an older woman to greet the group. She immediately reaches out to hug the two women who happen to be walking perfectly side by side. The two women smile as she descends upon them, the tall slender blonde breaking hold of her hipster companion to clasp her arms around Babet.
“Babe! It is wonderful.” The petite blonde says, straining to reach Babet’s ear.
“I couldn't have done it without you, Molly, thank you so much for taking the photos.” Babet’s tone is heartfelt and appreciative.
“Well, you know. It’s what I do.” Molly is the slender dark blonde and I suddenly know this woman. She is Molly DuBois, one of the most prominent photographers in New Orleans. Her work is well known in the area my warehouse hides among the newly converted loft apartments known as the Arts district. I have to break from my inner thoughts to return to the conversation in front of me. The petite blonde is currently in control of the conversation.
“….and your mother has agreed to let me display your work in my Pardido location…” she is interrupted my Babet’s gasp, but she quickly recovers, “but only for a week.” They all respond similarly, they of course know Brigitte Lancaster Beauregard. The gentlemen are just that, they converse among themselves until they are pulled into the main conversation, but it is clear that even they are aware of Babet’s mother’s idiosyncrasies.
“It’s a start, she’s trying.” Babet says with a bright smile. I see Babet’s mother heading over to the small crowd.
“Hey, girls!!!” Brigitte Lancaster Beauregard squeals with her arms wide open to take in the three girls, but she is too petite to get her arms around them all.
“Hey Mama B!” Molly and little blonde say in unison.
“Proud of my girl? I know ya’ll are, because I certainly am, hey let me get a picture of you three together. It’s been a long time since I had one of ya’ll, all grown up…can’t believe it.” She turns to grab a camera off the podium, “Alright, get together now.” She holds the camera up zooming to capture the girls and as I watch all of this I can’t help but picture Babet and her friends as the Mythical Three Graces; the light blonde, the dark blonde, the red head. The picture is taken and the flash extinguished, the girls turn to one another again after saying farewell to Babet’s mother who waves before returning to her previous task.
“Well I have a wedding to coif in the morning, so Marcus and I need to head home.” The petite blonde takes the hand of the tall gentleman she arrived with who turns to Babet, offering a farewell smile. Marcus is the silent type. Petite blonde reaches up to kiss Babet’s cheek, “Luvies.” She says before lowering her heels to the floor. She then kisses Molly and hugs Hipster, “Good to see you again Wade.”
“You guys too. Marcus, I’ll be in touch.” Wade says and gets a nod from Marcus.
Molly and Wade, Marcus and….
“Oh, Frankie?! If you need a copy of the photograph to accompany the painting, I’d be glad to bring it this week.” Molly calls after the couple turned to leave.
…Frankie.
“Well I have nothing in the morning and there is a little over an hour left to imbibe the city,” Molly says while gazing into Wade’s eyes, “You in, Babe?” She turns her attention back to Babet.
“I can’t,” She says regretfully. “I have to get back to relieve Caroline. She has Henri tonight.”
“Where’s Scar?”
“She wanted to stay at Monica’s. After all she’s seen the presentation and she basically watched me paint the house. I was fine with it.”
“Well, give her a big hug for me.”
“I will, thanks again Mol. I really couldn't have done it without you.” Babet is once again extremely appreciative.
“Babe, I highly doubt that. We’ll be in touch.” Molly leans in to kiss Babet’s cheek. “Luvies.”
“Luvies.” Babet responds quietly. “Bye Wade, thanks for coming!” She calls happily after the departing couple. Wade simply raises his hand, his back to Babet as he takes Molly’s arm leading her toward the door.
I remained entranced and fixated if not on her than it’s the people greeting her. Her response to each of them, some with boredom others with animosity, but her face lights up when she gets a glance through the crowd of two couples.
A tall gentleman with brown hair, dressed in an Izod button-up collared shirt and khaki shorts and an extremely petite woman with light blonde hair wearing a brightly colored hi-lo dress and nude wedges were joined by a tall slender woman with dark blonde hair, she has on blue patterned shorts and a white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled to her forearms. Her wedges match her light blue eyes; she holds the hand of a hipster beatnik looking man. His black fedora is placed perfectly over his Buddy Holly glasses and his tan vest covers a white v-neck under shirt, his arms are heavily tattooed.
Babet breaks from the embrace of an older woman to greet the group. She immediately reaches out to hug the two women who happen to be walking perfectly side by side. The two women smile as she descends upon them, the tall slender blonde breaking hold of her hipster companion to clasp her arms around Babet.
“Babe! It is wonderful.” The petite blonde says, straining to reach Babet’s ear.
“I couldn't have done it without you, Molly, thank you so much for taking the photos.” Babet’s tone is heartfelt and appreciative.
“Well, you know. It’s what I do.” Molly is the slender dark blonde and I suddenly know this woman. She is Molly DuBois, one of the most prominent photographers in New Orleans. Her work is well known in the area my warehouse hides among the newly converted loft apartments known as the Arts district. I have to break from my inner thoughts to return to the conversation in front of me. The petite blonde is currently in control of the conversation.
“….and your mother has agreed to let me display your work in my Pardido location…” she is interrupted my Babet’s gasp, but she quickly recovers, “but only for a week.” They all respond similarly, they of course know Brigitte Lancaster Beauregard. The gentlemen are just that, they converse among themselves until they are pulled into the main conversation, but it is clear that even they are aware of Babet’s mother’s idiosyncrasies.
“It’s a start, she’s trying.” Babet says with a bright smile. I see Babet’s mother heading over to the small crowd.
“Hey, girls!!!” Brigitte Lancaster Beauregard squeals with her arms wide open to take in the three girls, but she is too petite to get her arms around them all.
“Hey Mama B!” Molly and little blonde say in unison.
“Proud of my girl? I know ya’ll are, because I certainly am, hey let me get a picture of you three together. It’s been a long time since I had one of ya’ll, all grown up…can’t believe it.” She turns to grab a camera off the podium, “Alright, get together now.” She holds the camera up zooming to capture the girls and as I watch all of this I can’t help but picture Babet and her friends as the Mythical Three Graces; the light blonde, the dark blonde, the red head. The picture is taken and the flash extinguished, the girls turn to one another again after saying farewell to Babet’s mother who waves before returning to her previous task.
“Well I have a wedding to coif in the morning, so Marcus and I need to head home.” The petite blonde takes the hand of the tall gentleman she arrived with who turns to Babet, offering a farewell smile. Marcus is the silent type. Petite blonde reaches up to kiss Babet’s cheek, “Luvies.” She says before lowering her heels to the floor. She then kisses Molly and hugs Hipster, “Good to see you again Wade.”
“You guys too. Marcus, I’ll be in touch.” Wade says and gets a nod from Marcus.
Molly and Wade, Marcus and….
“Oh, Frankie?! If you need a copy of the photograph to accompany the painting, I’d be glad to bring it this week.” Molly calls after the couple turned to leave.
…Frankie.
“Well I have nothing in the morning and there is a little over an hour left to imbibe the city,” Molly says while gazing into Wade’s eyes, “You in, Babe?” She turns her attention back to Babet.
“I can’t,” She says regretfully. “I have to get back to relieve Caroline. She has Henri tonight.”
“Where’s Scar?”
“She wanted to stay at Monica’s. After all she’s seen the presentation and she basically watched me paint the house. I was fine with it.”
“Well, give her a big hug for me.”
“I will, thanks again Mol. I really couldn't have done it without you.” Babet is once again extremely appreciative.
“Babe, I highly doubt that. We’ll be in touch.” Molly leans in to kiss Babet’s cheek. “Luvies.”
“Luvies.” Babet responds quietly. “Bye Wade, thanks for coming!” She calls happily after the departing couple. Wade simply raises his hand, his back to Babet as he takes Molly’s arm leading her toward the door.
Well, look what the Queen dragged in...
For the two weeks, Estella and I keep guard over Babet, Scarlet and Henri at Audubon there is little to no advancement or declination in the family’s situation. We are either on rotating shifts or allowed mutual time with the young mother. Estella still had her obligations to the Queen, but I had gained exclusivity with Babet. I had been taken off collecting bounties until this was resolved.
It had been enlightening, refreshing and revelatory to spend quality time with Babet who seemed to have newfound peace, but every good must come to an end and I was in house the night she got a call from a Cruise Line business office. The children were asleep upstairs and silently I listened while she was informed of her mother’s disappearance while in Cozumel, Mexico.
Mrs. Bridgette Lancaster Beauregard had not returned to the ship from her dinner in the southern city the night before. Babet sat quietly sobbing with her hand to her mouth staring at the floor while the representative insensitively delivered the blow. In that moment all the reassuring conversations and hope that maybe this was coming to a close was diminished in her eyes. Intense thoughts raced behind those eyes, her life was still in peril, and the hands of whatever was after her had stretched its claws to her mother in another country. She sat, fixated on the work of art hanging high on the wall in front of her, and then she quickly looked to me.
“I just….don’t understand….I thought….I just have come so far and feel I have no more tears to cry” But her face revealed a different story and baubles of tears began to trickle down from her eyelid to her cheek. She stood up but I grabbed her before she could get far. I pressed her to my chest until the tension in her body ease into me and I felt her hands lightly grasp the lower part of my back.
I rested my chin on her head and my body began to tense as her scent filled me. I was determined not to give into my deepest, darkest desires; I just wanted to comfort her, as I had wanted to during all the early morning conversations between us.
I wanted to be the support she needed, without the complications of our natures. We stood embraced momentarily until I felt her pull slightly from me. I lifted my head to look down at her. Babet, stared into my eyes and this beautiful creature, so fragile, so human and so sad, made my cold heart, burn and ache. I wiped the tears from her eyes and brushed the hair back from her face, the tiny strands glued to it by her already dried tears.
“To cry”, I said and positioned my hands securely around her face, staring directly into her, “is to know you’re alive.” I hold her delicately before lowering my hands. She sniffed a couple of times before standing on her toes, closed her eyes and lifted herself to meet my face. She kissed me gently, her mouth so warm and soft, like two hot rose petals closing in on my lips. She kissed me again in this way and I felt her body flush with warmth, she then began to lower herself from her heightened status.
I opened my eyes expectantly as she landed flat on the floor, but before she could pull completely out of my arms I brought her back to me, leaned down and kissed her in return. My large hands encased her hair and the fragrance of her radiated from it. I didn’t linger in the kiss as I felt it was more of a comfort to her than an invitation for anything other than that, but I desperately wanted her. Her frailty enchanted me and challenged me. Before I could wrap my mind around what was happening between us she was back up to my level, her eyes closed and her mouth engulfed mine, her tongue swimming happily against mine.
I clasped my hands around her face, the warm silky texture of her skin gliding over my fingertips. I rounded my hand to her neck and pulled her closer, the nape an inferno. I pulled away from her, my mouth hung open and my teeth ran out, I tilted my head to take in Babet’s response. She stood staring at me panting and a slight smile came across her face. She licked her lips, swallowed and asked, “Can I?” Her hand reached up to touch my prominent teeth.
I didn’t move and her delicate little fingers stroked the inside and then outside of my extended canines. Our exchange was interrupted by the faint sound of cooing. Like lightning Babet turned her attention to the sounds, waiting to see if the baby continued. Henri must have been dreaming and Babet turned back to face me. The aura emitting from her changed from desire to embarrassment and she nervously laughed, then took a deep breath and blew out the air from her lungs, as if extinguishing a candle. My teeth retracted and I broke the silence, “I’m sorry.” I said.
Although I knew exactly what was overtaking the sensibility I had mastered during the centuries. I still didn’t want to leave her side. I wanted to never let her out of my sight, like the first night I saw her, keep her protected. I am also aware that subconsciously I wanted her for more selfish reasons than not. My compulsion was more than the simple vampire yearning. I felt a kinship to this woman, I could relate to her loss in her short years. She was like me, aside from her children, she was ultimately alone. But she had not lost these mortal ties naturally and I had to get beyond my own selfishness. I shifted back to face her once again, and her eyes, indifferent.
“They’re, “and she faltered in her speech and for a moment I was fearful that we were back to square one. But she surprises me constantly and tonight was no different, “So, sharp.” And she smiled, her own teeth showing a little more. I couldn’t help but return the gesture. For the remainder of the night I hold her, until the ever presence of dawn began to crest the Earth that would soon reach the tiny corner Babet and I had laid out for ourselves, I took my leave of her once it was apparent that she would be safe for the brief moments it would take to return to my haven.
The following evening I was to attend the Queen in Estella’s absence. I by no means would serve drinks and flit around the floor, but my existence at her side is a requirement I grew less and less obliged to. For some time I hungered for release from the Queen’s employment and the closer I would get to obtaining it, she drew me back to her side. Be it intrigue of what was at the time unknown to me. Once my curiosity fulfilled, I was instantly regretful of my decision. Her power is undeniable. Human and Vampire, we are all possessed by her. One look in her eyes and your addicted to her; our Queen.
My arrival to Morte is as it always is a quietly stealthy entry into the sacrificial chamber, positioning myself where I could observe the patronage and the Queen. Her grand arrival had already commenced and I greeted her, standing to her left as she nodded and returned her gaze to the floor below her throne of a balcony. She spoke directly at me but did not make my eyes.
“We have a guest Cian, someone I think you’ll recognize.”
Appearing at the Queen’s right shoulder stood my brother Keane. His sandy blonde hair a tousled mess. Stopping at his shoulders, long rogue strands hung in front of his piercing blue eyes. Keane. His attire much different from mine, my once brother in arms stood before me in an ebony Armani suit and striking tie; the garnet and crimson paisley design screaming from behind the prison of his fitted vest. His hands overlapped one another in front of him.
As if waiting for me to speak, he dropped his hands and began to come toward me. “Still an old hard stone, huh Cian?” the surprise rising in his voice.
I kept my guard and when he was close enough I smirked and said, “Old Dogs, Keane. Can’t teach us a thing.” We both laughed heartily and I grabbed by brother and brought him to me, he slapped my back and we separated.
“Good to see you my brother, it has been too long.” He remarked turning his finger at me.
I nodded, “Aye”, and after the moment of reunited bliss passed I became suspicious of Keane’s arrival into New Orleans. “What brings you to the city?”
“Ah, a most gracious invitation from her majesty brings me to your fair metropolis.” He says and while he does he bows courteously toward the Queen and in return she nods in his direction with a faint smile. I witness this exchange and before returning her concentration to her business she flashes me a glance that implies to me her pleasure in Keane. I resumed my position within the club, while Keane and Madliene discussed things only to themselves.
Once the festivities for the evening had officially died I excused myself from the Queen. With not only the urgency of appetite but a great longing to retreat from Keane, I knew he sensed my pace to be too hasty for my normality. Because no matter how long we have been apart, Keane knows me better than I know myself. He is someone I have known since childhood and we have bonded in more ways than any real or biological brothers could. We are kindred spirits he and I.
“Where you off to brother?” The echo of his baritone is uncanny in my head. I turn and stare for mere seconds, but in our world seconds are lifetimes and finally I tilt my head, motioning him to follow. He bows graciously to the Queen, taking her hand to kiss the back of it.
“If you will excuse me?” She of course gives her consent and Keane set out to join me at my flank, his original position when we were lads. We exit the Club through the back corridor.
He quickens his pace slightly to meet mine and we are striding together once again, exact footsteps, a single being with four legs clomping through the streets.
“Fed for the night?” I ask and in my peripheral I see a glint of bright white shine clearly against the night’s sky, Keane’s smile a definite sight for my sore eyes.
Keane and I fed; I, from a blood bag I obtained, while Keane took to the street to search out his perfect meal. By the time he returned to the townhouse procured for his stay and sat the statuesque human female on one of the overstuffed chairs residing in the corner of the large receiving room, I had long been satisfied. She was, of course, beautiful. The girl’s black hair is short, the bob haircut resembling that of a wig and most likely is. Her face is overly made up and the black around her ice blue eyes looks like fireplace soot, making the blue stand out that much more.
I continue to observe her calm behavior, more and more humans were becoming less and less wary of being in the presence of vampires and from the girl’s demeanor she had been in our type of company, plenty. From what I could see of her body, she bared no sign of being fed upon, but once she removed the jacket over her mini-dress it was apparent that she had spent more time with our kind than I had assumed. Her arms from shoulder to wrist, inside and out are marked, some wounds old, some new and scars on top of scars. She readjusted her seat, folded her hands in her lap and looked directly into my eyes, unafraid of whatever powers she thought me to possess.
“Name’s Shi, what’s yours?” she asked engaging me in conversation, while crossing her legs. Her face is pleasant and inviting.
“Cian.” My tone less than inviting.
“Nice, got a brother Abel?” she said and laughed at her own cleverness.
I didn’t reciprocate the feeling and she discontinued her jest, rolling her eyes and looking around the room for Keane’s location. But I could tell she was becoming uneasy sitting across from me and my seriousness. I didn’t begrudge Keane his preferences, he had his lifestyle and I chose mine, but I can honestly say I didn’t like conversing with someone who would soon cease to be. Keane reentered the great room and Shi’s eyes lit up.
Keane is a handsome vampire, like we all are. The man has eyes so intense they bore into your very soul. It’s his gift, soul searching, a vampire who can read the souls of others, humans and vampire alike. Very few soul searchers survive in our community. Vampires aren’t keen on the idea of another being able to see though them and the tales of other’s souls can break and wear down a reader.
The eyes of a soul searcher hold a kind of gentleness, I think of it as a catalyst for the reader, a welcoming feature allowing them to proceed; this all commences without the human or vampire’s knowledge and it’s very interesting to watch. This look has been described in our histories accounts as “puppy-dog eyes”.
Keane glides over to the girl, peering down and into Shi’s eyes. I instantly felt her body relax as he offered his hand, she takes it and is lifted her from her seat. Keane led her toward the spiral staircase central in the townhouse, I watch as he weightlessly slithers up guiding Shi. Her high heels clump up one and then two steps. Then the clopping turned into a whooshing sound as Keane whisked the girl up, my eyes can’t help but follow their path.
Just before crossing the threshold to the bedroom, he glances down the at me, smiles and I could see his teeth had run completely out. I couldn’t help but smirk and shake my head at him.
Keane emerged from the room, easily and quietly closing the door, he had not extinguished Shi’s life and was allowing the stranger to slumber in his temporary haven. I had to admit I wasn’t surprised, Keane had always been attentive; not only in battle but even after the wars, he never let the grief consume him so it showed to his younger siblings and his mother. His father, of course always knew what his son had endured and seen.
“She’ll be here for a day or so.” He said as he reached the bottom of the staircase. His suit slightly disheveled, the jacket and ornate tie were gone and the collar of his white dress shirt hung open. Since his shirt was still tucked into his pants I knew he had not had sex with the girl, but being as she would be in his haven for more than the night, it was definitely in his plans to do so. “I kinda like her, what do you think Cian?”
I nodded and stood up from my seat, beginning to feel that Keane’s presence was more than a simple visit to the Queen, be it by her request or not. “Now that you’re fed, I have a few questions for you, if I may, of course?” I said as he took Shi’s former seat.
His face turned from confused to inquisitive in a matter of seconds, “Sure Cian, Spanish Inquisition?”
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
It had been enlightening, refreshing and revelatory to spend quality time with Babet who seemed to have newfound peace, but every good must come to an end and I was in house the night she got a call from a Cruise Line business office. The children were asleep upstairs and silently I listened while she was informed of her mother’s disappearance while in Cozumel, Mexico.
Mrs. Bridgette Lancaster Beauregard had not returned to the ship from her dinner in the southern city the night before. Babet sat quietly sobbing with her hand to her mouth staring at the floor while the representative insensitively delivered the blow. In that moment all the reassuring conversations and hope that maybe this was coming to a close was diminished in her eyes. Intense thoughts raced behind those eyes, her life was still in peril, and the hands of whatever was after her had stretched its claws to her mother in another country. She sat, fixated on the work of art hanging high on the wall in front of her, and then she quickly looked to me.
“I just….don’t understand….I thought….I just have come so far and feel I have no more tears to cry” But her face revealed a different story and baubles of tears began to trickle down from her eyelid to her cheek. She stood up but I grabbed her before she could get far. I pressed her to my chest until the tension in her body ease into me and I felt her hands lightly grasp the lower part of my back.
I rested my chin on her head and my body began to tense as her scent filled me. I was determined not to give into my deepest, darkest desires; I just wanted to comfort her, as I had wanted to during all the early morning conversations between us.
I wanted to be the support she needed, without the complications of our natures. We stood embraced momentarily until I felt her pull slightly from me. I lifted my head to look down at her. Babet, stared into my eyes and this beautiful creature, so fragile, so human and so sad, made my cold heart, burn and ache. I wiped the tears from her eyes and brushed the hair back from her face, the tiny strands glued to it by her already dried tears.
“To cry”, I said and positioned my hands securely around her face, staring directly into her, “is to know you’re alive.” I hold her delicately before lowering my hands. She sniffed a couple of times before standing on her toes, closed her eyes and lifted herself to meet my face. She kissed me gently, her mouth so warm and soft, like two hot rose petals closing in on my lips. She kissed me again in this way and I felt her body flush with warmth, she then began to lower herself from her heightened status.
I opened my eyes expectantly as she landed flat on the floor, but before she could pull completely out of my arms I brought her back to me, leaned down and kissed her in return. My large hands encased her hair and the fragrance of her radiated from it. I didn’t linger in the kiss as I felt it was more of a comfort to her than an invitation for anything other than that, but I desperately wanted her. Her frailty enchanted me and challenged me. Before I could wrap my mind around what was happening between us she was back up to my level, her eyes closed and her mouth engulfed mine, her tongue swimming happily against mine.
I clasped my hands around her face, the warm silky texture of her skin gliding over my fingertips. I rounded my hand to her neck and pulled her closer, the nape an inferno. I pulled away from her, my mouth hung open and my teeth ran out, I tilted my head to take in Babet’s response. She stood staring at me panting and a slight smile came across her face. She licked her lips, swallowed and asked, “Can I?” Her hand reached up to touch my prominent teeth.
I didn’t move and her delicate little fingers stroked the inside and then outside of my extended canines. Our exchange was interrupted by the faint sound of cooing. Like lightning Babet turned her attention to the sounds, waiting to see if the baby continued. Henri must have been dreaming and Babet turned back to face me. The aura emitting from her changed from desire to embarrassment and she nervously laughed, then took a deep breath and blew out the air from her lungs, as if extinguishing a candle. My teeth retracted and I broke the silence, “I’m sorry.” I said.
Although I knew exactly what was overtaking the sensibility I had mastered during the centuries. I still didn’t want to leave her side. I wanted to never let her out of my sight, like the first night I saw her, keep her protected. I am also aware that subconsciously I wanted her for more selfish reasons than not. My compulsion was more than the simple vampire yearning. I felt a kinship to this woman, I could relate to her loss in her short years. She was like me, aside from her children, she was ultimately alone. But she had not lost these mortal ties naturally and I had to get beyond my own selfishness. I shifted back to face her once again, and her eyes, indifferent.
“They’re, “and she faltered in her speech and for a moment I was fearful that we were back to square one. But she surprises me constantly and tonight was no different, “So, sharp.” And she smiled, her own teeth showing a little more. I couldn’t help but return the gesture. For the remainder of the night I hold her, until the ever presence of dawn began to crest the Earth that would soon reach the tiny corner Babet and I had laid out for ourselves, I took my leave of her once it was apparent that she would be safe for the brief moments it would take to return to my haven.
The following evening I was to attend the Queen in Estella’s absence. I by no means would serve drinks and flit around the floor, but my existence at her side is a requirement I grew less and less obliged to. For some time I hungered for release from the Queen’s employment and the closer I would get to obtaining it, she drew me back to her side. Be it intrigue of what was at the time unknown to me. Once my curiosity fulfilled, I was instantly regretful of my decision. Her power is undeniable. Human and Vampire, we are all possessed by her. One look in her eyes and your addicted to her; our Queen.
My arrival to Morte is as it always is a quietly stealthy entry into the sacrificial chamber, positioning myself where I could observe the patronage and the Queen. Her grand arrival had already commenced and I greeted her, standing to her left as she nodded and returned her gaze to the floor below her throne of a balcony. She spoke directly at me but did not make my eyes.
“We have a guest Cian, someone I think you’ll recognize.”
Appearing at the Queen’s right shoulder stood my brother Keane. His sandy blonde hair a tousled mess. Stopping at his shoulders, long rogue strands hung in front of his piercing blue eyes. Keane. His attire much different from mine, my once brother in arms stood before me in an ebony Armani suit and striking tie; the garnet and crimson paisley design screaming from behind the prison of his fitted vest. His hands overlapped one another in front of him.
As if waiting for me to speak, he dropped his hands and began to come toward me. “Still an old hard stone, huh Cian?” the surprise rising in his voice.
I kept my guard and when he was close enough I smirked and said, “Old Dogs, Keane. Can’t teach us a thing.” We both laughed heartily and I grabbed by brother and brought him to me, he slapped my back and we separated.
“Good to see you my brother, it has been too long.” He remarked turning his finger at me.
I nodded, “Aye”, and after the moment of reunited bliss passed I became suspicious of Keane’s arrival into New Orleans. “What brings you to the city?”
“Ah, a most gracious invitation from her majesty brings me to your fair metropolis.” He says and while he does he bows courteously toward the Queen and in return she nods in his direction with a faint smile. I witness this exchange and before returning her concentration to her business she flashes me a glance that implies to me her pleasure in Keane. I resumed my position within the club, while Keane and Madliene discussed things only to themselves.
Once the festivities for the evening had officially died I excused myself from the Queen. With not only the urgency of appetite but a great longing to retreat from Keane, I knew he sensed my pace to be too hasty for my normality. Because no matter how long we have been apart, Keane knows me better than I know myself. He is someone I have known since childhood and we have bonded in more ways than any real or biological brothers could. We are kindred spirits he and I.
“Where you off to brother?” The echo of his baritone is uncanny in my head. I turn and stare for mere seconds, but in our world seconds are lifetimes and finally I tilt my head, motioning him to follow. He bows graciously to the Queen, taking her hand to kiss the back of it.
“If you will excuse me?” She of course gives her consent and Keane set out to join me at my flank, his original position when we were lads. We exit the Club through the back corridor.
He quickens his pace slightly to meet mine and we are striding together once again, exact footsteps, a single being with four legs clomping through the streets.
“Fed for the night?” I ask and in my peripheral I see a glint of bright white shine clearly against the night’s sky, Keane’s smile a definite sight for my sore eyes.
Keane and I fed; I, from a blood bag I obtained, while Keane took to the street to search out his perfect meal. By the time he returned to the townhouse procured for his stay and sat the statuesque human female on one of the overstuffed chairs residing in the corner of the large receiving room, I had long been satisfied. She was, of course, beautiful. The girl’s black hair is short, the bob haircut resembling that of a wig and most likely is. Her face is overly made up and the black around her ice blue eyes looks like fireplace soot, making the blue stand out that much more.
I continue to observe her calm behavior, more and more humans were becoming less and less wary of being in the presence of vampires and from the girl’s demeanor she had been in our type of company, plenty. From what I could see of her body, she bared no sign of being fed upon, but once she removed the jacket over her mini-dress it was apparent that she had spent more time with our kind than I had assumed. Her arms from shoulder to wrist, inside and out are marked, some wounds old, some new and scars on top of scars. She readjusted her seat, folded her hands in her lap and looked directly into my eyes, unafraid of whatever powers she thought me to possess.
“Name’s Shi, what’s yours?” she asked engaging me in conversation, while crossing her legs. Her face is pleasant and inviting.
“Cian.” My tone less than inviting.
“Nice, got a brother Abel?” she said and laughed at her own cleverness.
I didn’t reciprocate the feeling and she discontinued her jest, rolling her eyes and looking around the room for Keane’s location. But I could tell she was becoming uneasy sitting across from me and my seriousness. I didn’t begrudge Keane his preferences, he had his lifestyle and I chose mine, but I can honestly say I didn’t like conversing with someone who would soon cease to be. Keane reentered the great room and Shi’s eyes lit up.
Keane is a handsome vampire, like we all are. The man has eyes so intense they bore into your very soul. It’s his gift, soul searching, a vampire who can read the souls of others, humans and vampire alike. Very few soul searchers survive in our community. Vampires aren’t keen on the idea of another being able to see though them and the tales of other’s souls can break and wear down a reader.
The eyes of a soul searcher hold a kind of gentleness, I think of it as a catalyst for the reader, a welcoming feature allowing them to proceed; this all commences without the human or vampire’s knowledge and it’s very interesting to watch. This look has been described in our histories accounts as “puppy-dog eyes”.
Keane glides over to the girl, peering down and into Shi’s eyes. I instantly felt her body relax as he offered his hand, she takes it and is lifted her from her seat. Keane led her toward the spiral staircase central in the townhouse, I watch as he weightlessly slithers up guiding Shi. Her high heels clump up one and then two steps. Then the clopping turned into a whooshing sound as Keane whisked the girl up, my eyes can’t help but follow their path.
Just before crossing the threshold to the bedroom, he glances down the at me, smiles and I could see his teeth had run completely out. I couldn’t help but smirk and shake my head at him.
Keane emerged from the room, easily and quietly closing the door, he had not extinguished Shi’s life and was allowing the stranger to slumber in his temporary haven. I had to admit I wasn’t surprised, Keane had always been attentive; not only in battle but even after the wars, he never let the grief consume him so it showed to his younger siblings and his mother. His father, of course always knew what his son had endured and seen.
“She’ll be here for a day or so.” He said as he reached the bottom of the staircase. His suit slightly disheveled, the jacket and ornate tie were gone and the collar of his white dress shirt hung open. Since his shirt was still tucked into his pants I knew he had not had sex with the girl, but being as she would be in his haven for more than the night, it was definitely in his plans to do so. “I kinda like her, what do you think Cian?”
I nodded and stood up from my seat, beginning to feel that Keane’s presence was more than a simple visit to the Queen, be it by her request or not. “Now that you’re fed, I have a few questions for you, if I may, of course?” I said as he took Shi’s former seat.
His face turned from confused to inquisitive in a matter of seconds, “Sure Cian, Spanish Inquisition?”
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
The SHIT has hit the FAN...more arrivals, more problems
In no time we are flying over the Riverwalk, I take lead of Keane and we land just outside my warehouse haven where, there, sits the very nice car Myra described. A Jet black Mercedes C series, four door sedan with its sleek body style and alloy wheel rims sits gleaming under broken street lamps. The windows and windshields are tinted so dark it’s indiscernible who is inside.
Keane and I stare at the darkened front windshield as it fades revealing, a petite bleach blonde behind the wheel. She sits absolutely still until I begin to approach the car and her blonde head tilts. She shoots up a single finger directing us upstairs; the windshield fades back to black. I look up to see the lights of my haven have been illuminated; I return my stare to the car as I walk toward the door to the warehouse.
Keane and I take the rickety elevator up to the fifth floor; I reach down to fling the gate up when he remarks on my dwelling, “You live here? Cian?” Sympathetic undertone dances around my name.
I don’t have the chance to defend my haven before we recognize a familiar voice, “Of course he does, self-flagellating bastard that he is.” I look inside and see Fallon dressed to the nines in a black pinstripe suit.
“Fuck me! Fallon!” Keane rushes past me to happily embrace our brother, but I am less than receptive to not only his arrival but his impudence in breaking into my warehouse. I slowly cross the elevator threshold and slide the gate to latch. Fallon uncrosses his legs and rises from his seat on the old couch. He tosses his long bone straight brown locks over his shoulder, grabbing Keane in a tight hug. I saunter over and see a black cylindrical case strapped to Fallon’s back and before I have the opportunity to ask Keane comments on our outdoor eye-sore, “Nice ride brother, who’s the girl?” Fallon ignores him for the time being.
“Do you have no love for me brother?” Fallon says to me, arms open, “How many years has it been?” He chuckles and looks to Keane for explanation.
“Don’t mind him; Cian is dealing with some serious shit at the moment. What brings you in to town?” Keane is still hoping to keep the peace; I too wanted to know why Fallon is in New Orleans.
“Right. I’ve been in Las Vegas with Collette,” he turns and holds his hand out, motioning toward the oversized windows of my haven, “and I heard through the vampire grapevine the former King was returning to New Orleans. I figure Madliene is in for some of her own serious shit, eh? Oh and before you ask, no; I didn’t register with her. Will I? No, I won’t. Look, two seconds…” Fallon slides his hand into his front jacket pocket and retrieves a high tech cell phone. He slides the screen up, presses a button and puts the device to his ear. “Come up my darling, all is well.” His tone is sickeningly sweet. He then slides the phone down and back into his pocket, “Send that contraption down for Collette.”
“If she’s intelligent enough to push a button, she can make it up here on her own.” I say relinquishing my wariness of Fallon’s arrival and embrace my brother, “Good to see you brother,” I pull away from his now smiling face.
“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” And he chuckles again, waving his hand around the air of my haven, “Not nearly as bad as this. Cian, how long have you lived here?” Once again I am interrupted, Collette has reached the fifth floor and we were about to meet Fallon’s latest flavor. “Help her with that thing Cian, she’s mortal.”
I slowly walk over to the elevator, flip the latch and tug it open, as I do so in my peripheral I see a mass of long wavy bleach blonde hair, straight bangs covering her extended lashes as I focus on her, we lock eyes and I proceed to quickly look her over.
Collette is a rail thin young woman of no more than twenty-one with hazel eyes so light, they are almost yellow. Her button nose is also obviously augmented and her pillow lips are painted a deep burgundy. Her overly large, fake breasts are holding her long hair hostage off the side of each of them and for the second time tonight someone blows past me to get to Fallon.
As I turn around, he is holding his arms out to catch the slender beauty, dressed in black tight leather pants, driving jacket, and black stiletto heels that clatter across the floor before she jumps to land in his grasp. Her heels click together as they grip around his waist. Keane and I look on as they all but consummate their relationship in front of us. Fallon lowers her to the ground when Collette proceeds to sicken us further, “I missed you.” She says batting her long lashes at Fallon.
“And I you, my love.” He says before taking her chin betwixt his thumb and index finger, pulling her to him and planting a gentle kiss on her surgically perfected nose. “Gents, this is Collette.”
Fallon spins the girl around to present her to us, Keane takes her hand and states his name and then motions to me, “This hard-ass is Cian.” I offer my hand to her and in her reluctance she turns to Fallon who nods in approval.
Collette takes my hand and I gingerly shake it, “Hello.” I say and she responds with a slight smile.
“She’s my pride and joy brothers. Smart, stunning, and I have helped turn her into a skilled fighter. She’s my right hand and my lover all rolled into one. What can I say boys, I am truly happy.” He says and kisses her again on the nose. She remains silent.
Keane begins to ask Fallon another question but I am distracted by the buzzing in my back pocket, I reach back to retrieve it. Estella is calling. I excuse myself from the group but not before looking over at Keane who is eyeing me quizzically, “Estella.”
Before I can answer my phone I hear Fallon ask Keane, “Estella, huh?”
“E?” I say but she is frantic, her speech barely audible, “I’m on my way.”
I close the phone not paying a bit of attention to the audience I have attained as I slide it back into my pocket. “I’m going to Audubon, something is wrong.”
“Someone’s whipped.” Fallon says not aware of his ridiculous assumptions, which I ignore.
I turn to Keane, “You coming?”
“Uh, yeah…” He motions to Fallon and Collette, who I had momentarily forgotten in my frenzy to exit the warehouse, “What about…”
Fallon seems to have gained some grace in the last five minutes, “Let us drive you, I know you’re spent from the flight.”
“Nice!” Keane is like a dog, anticipating the ride.
The interior of Fallon’s Mercedes is of course leather and smells so. It is black with burgundy covering the front bucket seats and backseat. The dashboard is illuminated in red as Collette inserts and turns the key in the ignition, I notice Fallon is watching me take it all in, “She’s a beauty, eh Cian?”
“Aye,” I agree and sink back in the soothing rear seat, running my hands across the smooth leather of the arm rest and door frame. This is luxury, I will give Fallon that, but I jest with him even though inside I am sick to my core, my nerves are on high alert regarding Estella’s unknown predicament.
I don’t show this to Fallon who is seated comfortably beside me. Keane is in front toying with the switches and gadgets; tinting and lightening the windows with the push of a button, Collette drives silently as I ask Fallon, “Mercedes huh, what no Maybach or Bugatti?” I tilt my head smiling at him falsely.
“Well, after the Maybach was stolen and I wrecked the Bugatti, I decided to go with the Mercedes. It’s flashy without being too flashy, but in front of your warehouse a Ford Fiesta looks flashy.” He mirrors my head gesture. We smile at one another and as Collette turns left onto Tchoupitoulas Keane finally pipes up.
“Why drive in the first place Fallon? Have you considered red-eye air travel?” Keane is now the jester.
“I suppose it’s all because of my other love,” Fallon strokes the black cylindrical case now resting between his feet, “This, I’m sure you both are familiar with.” He opens the case and draws out his infamous Morningstar, “They want me to check it. In almost two thousand years she and I have been inseparable, I don’t intend to start now.”
“So where did you find Collette, Fallon?” Keane clearly lacks a brain to mouth filter. I roll my eyes at his bold inquiry but Fallon seems not to care, in fact he seems to thrive off of her and it clicks in me, I am envious of Fallon.
Strange thought as it may be, I finally realize it. I want what he has, not his car or his clothes or any of his blatant extravagance, but his relationship with Collette I am coveting. This makes my heart ache and my stomach turn; we can’t get to Audubon fast enough.
“I picked this little Philly up in a Las Vegas strip club; the music initially drew me in. Nine Inch Nails’ “Reptile” with its heady bass and industrial ticks coaxed me into the seedy dive and once I was inside I saw this heavenly creature gyrating and grinding before me. It was love at first sight.” He explains and then winks to Collette who is watching him through the rear-view mirror.
“She certainly is quiet.” Keane says while looking from Collette to me to Fallon.
“Aye, but smart and cunning.” Fallon is still longingly gazing into the front seat.
I can’t hold my tongue any longer, “Show me what this baby can do.” I say in hopes of reaching Audubon faster.
“Collette?” Fallon says.
“Sir.” She replies and I think, “sir”?
“Oblige Cian please.”
“Yes, sir.” Collette’s mouth stretches into a wide smile and she punches the accelerator, roaring the German engine to life. We are all thrown back into our seats as she flies down Magazine St. In no time we are at Audubon and I direct Collette to the stand alone townhouse segregated from the others.
Collette slows the car and before she can stop I am out and Estella is meeting me half way to the door, “Cian! Thank God!”
“What is it?”
“Babet…she’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” I am livid that I allowed Fallon to talk me into the ride, I immediately want turn on him but my focus is diverted when I think of Scarlet and Henri, “Where are the children?!”
“Inside.” Estella has clearly taken on more than even she can handle, she is paler than usual and I can feel her exhaustion.
I blow past her and cross the threshold. Scarlet is playing with Henri when I enter and to my surprise she jumps up from the floor and rushes toward me. I am expecting the worst but I am surprised further when she crashes into me, wrapping her tiny arms around me, her delicate head resting on my sternum. For a moment I am still, and in shock; I recover and encase her into me. Henri, the most perceptive little boy known to man watches me with his sister before pointing a finger at me.
“Cian!” He shrieks, lifting his little body off the floor to teeter over and join us. Scarlet breaks from me, bends down and picks him up. He reaches up for my face, I bend to him and he traces his chubby little digits from my forehead to my chin and says, “Mamma.”
I straighten and turn to see through the still open door Estella is outside meeting Fallon and Collette. She looks terrible, as if she just ran a hundred miles. I walk out to collect her, “E, talk to me.” I say pulling her aside.
Before I can get a word out Fallon chimes in and I wish he wouldn’t, “Can we be of assistance?” His arrogant smile playing on his lips.
I refrain from tearing his throat out for the time being and respond, “No, thank you but I think the kids have had enough vampire interaction for a lifetime.”
Fallon simply shrugs this off, “Right. Collette and I are off then, we need to procure a hotel room…” he says nuzzling into her neck, “…sooner than later.” She giggles and they turn to leave.
Estella and I begin to walk back to the still open door; Keane is trailing behind, “I will return. I need to take care of some of my own business; okay?”
My eyes are wide as I turn to face him but he calms me immediately, “Shi, Cian. I need to take care of Shi.” I wave my hand and head toward the door. I see Scarlet has resumed entertaining her baby brother; I nod to her when she meets my eyes and I pull the door ajar. Estella and I still outside.
“Estella, talk to me.” Her hand is plastered to her forehead.
She takes a deep breath and looks deep into my eyes, “After we parted ways I arrived here and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, her car was here and the lights were on. But the closer I got I saw a cell phone in the driveway, it’s hers.” She pulls the device out of her cleavage and hands it to me. I pocket it and wait for her to continue.
“I, of course came in. The kids were nowhere to be found; I called for them to no reply. I started to read the energy but I was blocked. I tried, Cian. I tried over and over; I cannot penetrate whatever is surrounding the house.” She begins to cry, she is clearly spent from the constant attempt.
This is beginning to make sense; Madliene would of course put an enchantment on the house, but an enchantment that blocks Estella’s gift, why? Any gifts we possess would be beneficial for the situation. I pull myself from the daze.
“After I was dragged to the floor for trying so hard I heard Henri’s voice. That pulled me right out, I ran up the stairs and listened until he did it again, but he didn’t so I manually searched and sniffed them out. They were huddled together in an upstairs closet, Scarlet said it was the ‘plan’ her mother gave her.”
Clever Babet, “Let’s go in.” I say and open the door for Estella who is visibly weary. I close the door behind me and stride into the room where Scarlet and Henri are, Estella sits down with the little boy to take over for Scarlet, “Can I talk to you Scarlet?” She looks up at me and over to Estella who is already engaging Henri.
“Sure,” she says getting up from the floor. She kisses Henri on the top of his blonde head and waits for my direction. I motion for her to accompany me out to the terrace, but I can see Estella wants to hear what the teenage girl has to say. I instead direct her to the couch. She sat but kept her eyes on Henri; I sat beside her and composed myself as to how to approach the sullen teenager.
I take a deep breath, “Scarlet, what was the plan your mother gave you?”
The girl meets my eyes and it’s the first time I have had the opportunity to really take Scarlet in. Her eyes are exactly like her mother’s, vibrant lustrous green but her scent is different. The lavender is there but the undertone isn’t rose hips, its citrus flower. She’s gorgeous, like her mother and her great aunt but now I can see less of the teen in her eyes and more of a young woman. A transformation I was sure was due to the unfortunate chain of events transpiring before her.
Revelations of Cian
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
Keane and I stare at the darkened front windshield as it fades revealing, a petite bleach blonde behind the wheel. She sits absolutely still until I begin to approach the car and her blonde head tilts. She shoots up a single finger directing us upstairs; the windshield fades back to black. I look up to see the lights of my haven have been illuminated; I return my stare to the car as I walk toward the door to the warehouse.
Keane and I take the rickety elevator up to the fifth floor; I reach down to fling the gate up when he remarks on my dwelling, “You live here? Cian?” Sympathetic undertone dances around my name.
I don’t have the chance to defend my haven before we recognize a familiar voice, “Of course he does, self-flagellating bastard that he is.” I look inside and see Fallon dressed to the nines in a black pinstripe suit.
“Fuck me! Fallon!” Keane rushes past me to happily embrace our brother, but I am less than receptive to not only his arrival but his impudence in breaking into my warehouse. I slowly cross the elevator threshold and slide the gate to latch. Fallon uncrosses his legs and rises from his seat on the old couch. He tosses his long bone straight brown locks over his shoulder, grabbing Keane in a tight hug. I saunter over and see a black cylindrical case strapped to Fallon’s back and before I have the opportunity to ask Keane comments on our outdoor eye-sore, “Nice ride brother, who’s the girl?” Fallon ignores him for the time being.
“Do you have no love for me brother?” Fallon says to me, arms open, “How many years has it been?” He chuckles and looks to Keane for explanation.
“Don’t mind him; Cian is dealing with some serious shit at the moment. What brings you in to town?” Keane is still hoping to keep the peace; I too wanted to know why Fallon is in New Orleans.
“Right. I’ve been in Las Vegas with Collette,” he turns and holds his hand out, motioning toward the oversized windows of my haven, “and I heard through the vampire grapevine the former King was returning to New Orleans. I figure Madliene is in for some of her own serious shit, eh? Oh and before you ask, no; I didn’t register with her. Will I? No, I won’t. Look, two seconds…” Fallon slides his hand into his front jacket pocket and retrieves a high tech cell phone. He slides the screen up, presses a button and puts the device to his ear. “Come up my darling, all is well.” His tone is sickeningly sweet. He then slides the phone down and back into his pocket, “Send that contraption down for Collette.”
“If she’s intelligent enough to push a button, she can make it up here on her own.” I say relinquishing my wariness of Fallon’s arrival and embrace my brother, “Good to see you brother,” I pull away from his now smiling face.
“There, that wasn’t so bad was it?” And he chuckles again, waving his hand around the air of my haven, “Not nearly as bad as this. Cian, how long have you lived here?” Once again I am interrupted, Collette has reached the fifth floor and we were about to meet Fallon’s latest flavor. “Help her with that thing Cian, she’s mortal.”
I slowly walk over to the elevator, flip the latch and tug it open, as I do so in my peripheral I see a mass of long wavy bleach blonde hair, straight bangs covering her extended lashes as I focus on her, we lock eyes and I proceed to quickly look her over.
Collette is a rail thin young woman of no more than twenty-one with hazel eyes so light, they are almost yellow. Her button nose is also obviously augmented and her pillow lips are painted a deep burgundy. Her overly large, fake breasts are holding her long hair hostage off the side of each of them and for the second time tonight someone blows past me to get to Fallon.
As I turn around, he is holding his arms out to catch the slender beauty, dressed in black tight leather pants, driving jacket, and black stiletto heels that clatter across the floor before she jumps to land in his grasp. Her heels click together as they grip around his waist. Keane and I look on as they all but consummate their relationship in front of us. Fallon lowers her to the ground when Collette proceeds to sicken us further, “I missed you.” She says batting her long lashes at Fallon.
“And I you, my love.” He says before taking her chin betwixt his thumb and index finger, pulling her to him and planting a gentle kiss on her surgically perfected nose. “Gents, this is Collette.”
Fallon spins the girl around to present her to us, Keane takes her hand and states his name and then motions to me, “This hard-ass is Cian.” I offer my hand to her and in her reluctance she turns to Fallon who nods in approval.
Collette takes my hand and I gingerly shake it, “Hello.” I say and she responds with a slight smile.
“She’s my pride and joy brothers. Smart, stunning, and I have helped turn her into a skilled fighter. She’s my right hand and my lover all rolled into one. What can I say boys, I am truly happy.” He says and kisses her again on the nose. She remains silent.
Keane begins to ask Fallon another question but I am distracted by the buzzing in my back pocket, I reach back to retrieve it. Estella is calling. I excuse myself from the group but not before looking over at Keane who is eyeing me quizzically, “Estella.”
Before I can answer my phone I hear Fallon ask Keane, “Estella, huh?”
“E?” I say but she is frantic, her speech barely audible, “I’m on my way.”
I close the phone not paying a bit of attention to the audience I have attained as I slide it back into my pocket. “I’m going to Audubon, something is wrong.”
“Someone’s whipped.” Fallon says not aware of his ridiculous assumptions, which I ignore.
I turn to Keane, “You coming?”
“Uh, yeah…” He motions to Fallon and Collette, who I had momentarily forgotten in my frenzy to exit the warehouse, “What about…”
Fallon seems to have gained some grace in the last five minutes, “Let us drive you, I know you’re spent from the flight.”
“Nice!” Keane is like a dog, anticipating the ride.
The interior of Fallon’s Mercedes is of course leather and smells so. It is black with burgundy covering the front bucket seats and backseat. The dashboard is illuminated in red as Collette inserts and turns the key in the ignition, I notice Fallon is watching me take it all in, “She’s a beauty, eh Cian?”
“Aye,” I agree and sink back in the soothing rear seat, running my hands across the smooth leather of the arm rest and door frame. This is luxury, I will give Fallon that, but I jest with him even though inside I am sick to my core, my nerves are on high alert regarding Estella’s unknown predicament.
I don’t show this to Fallon who is seated comfortably beside me. Keane is in front toying with the switches and gadgets; tinting and lightening the windows with the push of a button, Collette drives silently as I ask Fallon, “Mercedes huh, what no Maybach or Bugatti?” I tilt my head smiling at him falsely.
“Well, after the Maybach was stolen and I wrecked the Bugatti, I decided to go with the Mercedes. It’s flashy without being too flashy, but in front of your warehouse a Ford Fiesta looks flashy.” He mirrors my head gesture. We smile at one another and as Collette turns left onto Tchoupitoulas Keane finally pipes up.
“Why drive in the first place Fallon? Have you considered red-eye air travel?” Keane is now the jester.
“I suppose it’s all because of my other love,” Fallon strokes the black cylindrical case now resting between his feet, “This, I’m sure you both are familiar with.” He opens the case and draws out his infamous Morningstar, “They want me to check it. In almost two thousand years she and I have been inseparable, I don’t intend to start now.”
“So where did you find Collette, Fallon?” Keane clearly lacks a brain to mouth filter. I roll my eyes at his bold inquiry but Fallon seems not to care, in fact he seems to thrive off of her and it clicks in me, I am envious of Fallon.
Strange thought as it may be, I finally realize it. I want what he has, not his car or his clothes or any of his blatant extravagance, but his relationship with Collette I am coveting. This makes my heart ache and my stomach turn; we can’t get to Audubon fast enough.
“I picked this little Philly up in a Las Vegas strip club; the music initially drew me in. Nine Inch Nails’ “Reptile” with its heady bass and industrial ticks coaxed me into the seedy dive and once I was inside I saw this heavenly creature gyrating and grinding before me. It was love at first sight.” He explains and then winks to Collette who is watching him through the rear-view mirror.
“She certainly is quiet.” Keane says while looking from Collette to me to Fallon.
“Aye, but smart and cunning.” Fallon is still longingly gazing into the front seat.
I can’t hold my tongue any longer, “Show me what this baby can do.” I say in hopes of reaching Audubon faster.
“Collette?” Fallon says.
“Sir.” She replies and I think, “sir”?
“Oblige Cian please.”
“Yes, sir.” Collette’s mouth stretches into a wide smile and she punches the accelerator, roaring the German engine to life. We are all thrown back into our seats as she flies down Magazine St. In no time we are at Audubon and I direct Collette to the stand alone townhouse segregated from the others.
Collette slows the car and before she can stop I am out and Estella is meeting me half way to the door, “Cian! Thank God!”
“What is it?”
“Babet…she’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s gone?” I am livid that I allowed Fallon to talk me into the ride, I immediately want turn on him but my focus is diverted when I think of Scarlet and Henri, “Where are the children?!”
“Inside.” Estella has clearly taken on more than even she can handle, she is paler than usual and I can feel her exhaustion.
I blow past her and cross the threshold. Scarlet is playing with Henri when I enter and to my surprise she jumps up from the floor and rushes toward me. I am expecting the worst but I am surprised further when she crashes into me, wrapping her tiny arms around me, her delicate head resting on my sternum. For a moment I am still, and in shock; I recover and encase her into me. Henri, the most perceptive little boy known to man watches me with his sister before pointing a finger at me.
“Cian!” He shrieks, lifting his little body off the floor to teeter over and join us. Scarlet breaks from me, bends down and picks him up. He reaches up for my face, I bend to him and he traces his chubby little digits from my forehead to my chin and says, “Mamma.”
I straighten and turn to see through the still open door Estella is outside meeting Fallon and Collette. She looks terrible, as if she just ran a hundred miles. I walk out to collect her, “E, talk to me.” I say pulling her aside.
Before I can get a word out Fallon chimes in and I wish he wouldn’t, “Can we be of assistance?” His arrogant smile playing on his lips.
I refrain from tearing his throat out for the time being and respond, “No, thank you but I think the kids have had enough vampire interaction for a lifetime.”
Fallon simply shrugs this off, “Right. Collette and I are off then, we need to procure a hotel room…” he says nuzzling into her neck, “…sooner than later.” She giggles and they turn to leave.
Estella and I begin to walk back to the still open door; Keane is trailing behind, “I will return. I need to take care of some of my own business; okay?”
My eyes are wide as I turn to face him but he calms me immediately, “Shi, Cian. I need to take care of Shi.” I wave my hand and head toward the door. I see Scarlet has resumed entertaining her baby brother; I nod to her when she meets my eyes and I pull the door ajar. Estella and I still outside.
“Estella, talk to me.” Her hand is plastered to her forehead.
She takes a deep breath and looks deep into my eyes, “After we parted ways I arrived here and I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, her car was here and the lights were on. But the closer I got I saw a cell phone in the driveway, it’s hers.” She pulls the device out of her cleavage and hands it to me. I pocket it and wait for her to continue.
“I, of course came in. The kids were nowhere to be found; I called for them to no reply. I started to read the energy but I was blocked. I tried, Cian. I tried over and over; I cannot penetrate whatever is surrounding the house.” She begins to cry, she is clearly spent from the constant attempt.
This is beginning to make sense; Madliene would of course put an enchantment on the house, but an enchantment that blocks Estella’s gift, why? Any gifts we possess would be beneficial for the situation. I pull myself from the daze.
“After I was dragged to the floor for trying so hard I heard Henri’s voice. That pulled me right out, I ran up the stairs and listened until he did it again, but he didn’t so I manually searched and sniffed them out. They were huddled together in an upstairs closet, Scarlet said it was the ‘plan’ her mother gave her.”
Clever Babet, “Let’s go in.” I say and open the door for Estella who is visibly weary. I close the door behind me and stride into the room where Scarlet and Henri are, Estella sits down with the little boy to take over for Scarlet, “Can I talk to you Scarlet?” She looks up at me and over to Estella who is already engaging Henri.
“Sure,” she says getting up from the floor. She kisses Henri on the top of his blonde head and waits for my direction. I motion for her to accompany me out to the terrace, but I can see Estella wants to hear what the teenage girl has to say. I instead direct her to the couch. She sat but kept her eyes on Henri; I sat beside her and composed myself as to how to approach the sullen teenager.
I take a deep breath, “Scarlet, what was the plan your mother gave you?”
The girl meets my eyes and it’s the first time I have had the opportunity to really take Scarlet in. Her eyes are exactly like her mother’s, vibrant lustrous green but her scent is different. The lavender is there but the undertone isn’t rose hips, its citrus flower. She’s gorgeous, like her mother and her great aunt but now I can see less of the teen in her eyes and more of a young woman. A transformation I was sure was due to the unfortunate chain of events transpiring before her.
Revelations of Cian
http://www.amazon.com/Revelations-Cia...
Chapter ONE
Chapter 1
It’s August, and August in New Orleans is hotter than the bluest blazes of hell. It’s been six months. Six months since I last saw…a lot can happen in six months. The tattoo gun vibrates my hand as I work but my thoughts are on all that has transpired. Scarlet is back at school and thriving; utilizing her minimal gifts. Henri is talking a mile a minute; colors, shapes, letters and numbers. My little tape recorder. Mamma is all consumed with the children; which has been a bit of a blessing for me. Searching for a new place is never easy, though my parents are over the moon that we are living at the house.
Luckily I was able to talk Frankie into letting me buy into her Pardido location and set up my tattoo business. Certification was less than difficult and given my reputation in the city I was able to bypass the apprentice process. With a portion of the insurance money from the fire I was to not only able buy all my equipment but renovate a nook for myself and my clients inside the salon.
The most interesting event during this time is my Daddy’s debut back into society, human and vampire alike. Questions of course were brought up, but Daddy fabricated some non-sense about witness protection and plastic surgery for the humans. He needed no excuses for the vampires, his reputation preceding him. And how he got the city to relinquish the house is beyond me. The house is busy, but not with tourists; my Daddy’s vampire coven are in and out at all hours of the night. I know this because I’ve become a borderline insomniac since Cian left.
When I don’t sleep, which is often, I paint. Albeit manically and occasionally while crying incessantly. My old room is littered with canvases, paint tubes and brushes. Mamma made me cover the entire floor with a tarp so not to destroy the original hardwoods and Daddy takes each piece as soon as it’s complete. I take a picture of it and upload it to my tablet for future reference, but because of the fire and ALL my work going up in flames Daddy locks the finished pieces away in his fire proof vault room. So far I’ve painted and Daddy has locked away, eighteen portraits; most of the paintings are depictions of what happened that March night. I also painted Mamma and Daddy as they are now, along with portraits of Scarlet and Henri. The house grounds are the perfect backdrop.
On a personal level I had a friend permanently ink Mora’s final death on my left bicep. My tattoo shows human warrior goddess Collette, her spiked heels implanted in Mora’s clavicles, staking her from overhead. I embellished it a little. I get lots of comments on it, “Where did you come up with the idea?” They ask. Of course I cannot divulge such information, stating it came to me in a dream.
Another visible change is my hair, which shocks even me when I look in the mirror. I let Frankie talk me into an A-line razor bob. It looks great and I feel like a new person but I wonder what he will think when…if he sees me. I get a nauseous pinging in my stomach at this thought.
The good always comes with a little bad and the negativity of our new lives is small, but it’s relevant. Griffin’s mother attempted to blackmail my Daddy; claiming she knew he had something to do with her son’s death. She was so adamant that when she arrived at the house to discuss the situation she disowned Henri completely. If I was honest with myself I would say, Good Riddance. I know she didn’t like me when I married her only son; but she was always very harsh with regard to Scarlet. She showed her true colors and left with a check. The money wasn’t to keep her quiet; my Daddy didn’t care if she said anything to anyone, it was to keep her out of our lives.
My thought are interrupted by Calista LeBeau; my last client of the day,“Ooh!”
She and I attended high school together and she has always been one of the few girls I can consider a friend. She is a sprite of a girl. Petite and thin, she has shoulder length reddish brown hair almost the color of Dr. Pepper. I’m tattooing an intricate Celtic knot on her right forearm. She recently married into an Irish family and wanted to reflect her husband’s heritage.
“Sorry Calista,” I say hoping my hand didn’t get too heavy. I change the subject, “What is your new last name Mrs.?”
“Please, Babe. Tattoos hurt and I am officially Calista Keever.” She holds her head up pompously, then laughs as I continue.
“Keever; that’s a good, strong, Irish name. Congratulations; again.” I say smiling, keeping my eyes on her arm.
“Thanks!” I hear the elation of being a new bride in her voice.
Frankie rounds the corner of my little nook, “Hey; your Dad is on line four.”
“Thanks Frank.” I say as she turns to go back to her client. I look over to Calista who is admiring her new ink, “You mind if we take a break Calista?”
“Take your time Babe.”
“Thanks.” I remove my gloves, discarding them in the trashcan by my door.
I don’t keep a phone in my part of the salon, it’s too distracting ringing off the hook all day. But that’s success isn’t it and Frankie is successful.
Very successful, the shop is still loaded. Every chair is full even though the sun has gone down and the hair is flying. I get hit with the smell of ammonia and sulfur; color, perm, and cuts; highlight and lowlight, waxing, tanning, nails…and tattoo. It’s a lucrative business for sure.
Frankie hands me a cordless phone from her station, “Your Daddy calling here is going to take some getting used to.” She laughs, I reciprocate.
“Daddy?”
“Hey baby girl, how’s your day today?” My Daddy is so sweet but I can hear something behind it.
“Good, just finishing up for the day.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s in your chair at the moment?” My Daddy is so fascinated by my newest endeavor.
“Calista LeBeau, now Keever; she said to tell you welcome home.” I sound just as sweet waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“She’s such a nice girl, good family the LeBeau’s. Tell her Congratulations from your Mother and me.” He says and then he is silent.
“Daddy, you there?”
“Yeah…sorry I was taking paperwork from Alistair. Babe, I have an actor friend from Sweden who will be in Wilmington filming a movie…” he trails off again.
“Wilmington, North Carolina? Daddy?” I hear background voices and rustling papers.
“Yes, would you be interested in taking an au pair job for the next couple of months? I know its short notice but you can paint while you’re there and I know for a fact he is interested in having you paint his son’s portraits.”
I’m silent at first swirling everything together. I would have a lot of affairs to get in order before I go, if I go. I would need to discuss it with Frankie…and Scarlet.
My Daddy doesn’t let me answer, “I’ve discussed it with Frankie and she agrees you need some time away.”
My brow furrows as I begin to feel as if I’m being plotted against, “You talked to Frankie?” My tone is harsh.
“Babe, before you get upset, we all feel that, you threw yourself into work after everything in March. You received the insurance money and immediately talked to Frankie. You got certified and boom started. You don’t sleep, we all know you don’t. You need a vacation, honey.” His tone is pleading.
I can’t say no to my Daddy, “Of course Daddy, a working vacation.” I laugh.
“Think of it as a way to expand your new portfolio, besides you may get some time to go back to Emerald Isle, since those paintings are gone.”
I gasp and I know this is a hint if not a coax from my Daddy, “Thanks Daddy.” I say like I did when I was a little girl.
“I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you.”
I hang up the phone and turn to see the entire salon staring at me. I feel flush as they all resume their previous tasks except Frankie who is waiting for me to tell her I will need some time off. She winks at me, I roll my eyes and a smile comes from the side of my mouth.
“Can we talk later?” I ask.
“Of course, darlin’!” She squeals before applying another foil.
The salon is finally closed and everyone but Frankie and I have gone. I’m cleaning my nook while she pours over the day’s numbers. I peek my head in her door after I’m done to discuss my “vacation” time.
“Hey.” I say sitting in one of two ultra modern chairs, my tone is wary.
“Hey.” Frankie says smiling.
“Okay, so what did my Daddy say to you?” I ask laying it all out on the table.
“He said he had an artistic opportunity for you and I agreed that you could use some time off. If not from the shop; the city.”
I nod my head silently.
“He said he could get a replacement, but I told him you wouldn’t like that. He understood.” Frankie is such a good friend and knows me so well. “I told him not to worry and I’m telling you the same. Babe, you need closure from it all. Griffin’s death, your studio and your Dad coming back. I swear girl, you are strong as steel. I would be in a straight jacket if it were me.”
Frankie exaggerates; she is one of the strongest women I know. Starting her business at such a young age and being a successful entrepreneur takes serious guts and Frankie has them for sure.
“Two months though?”
“Yes, but how long have you been trying to get back to North Carolina? Thirteen years?” Frankie eyes me speculatively.
“That’s true.”
“And Cian?”
Again the sound of his name brings butterflies to my stomach and my heart in my throat. I will never forget the conversation with Frankie and Molly about my Scottish friend.
_________________________________________________________________________________
My cell vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans as I walk through the grocery store and I know by the ringtone it’s Frankie. Queen’s of the Stone Age “Little Sister” plays until I press the talk button.
“Hey girly!” I say with exuberance because I know exactly where this is headed.
“Hey yourself, Babe.” Her tone is humorously inquisitive.
“What are you up to today?” I ask
“Nice try Babe, what is up with that gorgeous man you were with at Molly’s party?”
I laugh, “He’s just a friend.” A friend who has me irrevocably vexed. A wave of sexual tension rises when I remember our kiss.
“Mmhhmm.” She says and I hear the laughter coming. “A friend of Aunt Estella?”
“Yes.” I say pushing the cart mindlessly. Henri is pointing and trying to grab everything.
“Where are you right now?”
“The grocery store, why?”
“Come have lunch with me and Molly. Its 10:30 now, meet us at Gazebo Café at 12:00.”
“Okay, I have Henri though.”
“Aw, petite Henri!” She shrills.
“Ha, he’s not that small anymore. Listen, I will finish up here and head back to Estella’s to unload. I’ll see you girls in an hour and half.”
“Yay! Okay, Luvies!” Frankie sings.
“Luvies.” I mirror.
I get what we need for the week, pay and load my car. After securing Henri in his seat I drive back to Audubon. Henri at two is already a big helper, carrying the bread for me. I pile the bags on the granite counter and begin to unload the groceries. All the while I am checking the time, it’s nearly 11:15 and I definitely can’t go to lunch with the girls in jeans and a t-shirt. I scoop up Henri and head upstairs, he points at the cannon style bed and I oblige him after removing his shoes. He jumps up and down on it while I slip on a pair of crimson and cream damask shorts, boat neck long-sleeved shirt and flip flops. I gather my hair into a ponytail and grab Henri off the bed to make my way down the stairs.
Back in the car the clock reads 11:36. If I can make it to Gazebo before the girls, I can settle Henri with some French Fries and ranch dressing. Parking isn’t the easiest feat near the Square, but I get lucky. I hold Henri’s hand as we walk through the vendor tables, bending to him when he points to something. I explain what it is and he repeats. We luckily make it to the café before Molly and Frankie; I immediately order Henri’s fries.
“Fries!” He says, “My fries.”
“Yes, your fries. They have to cook.” I explain.
“Ooh Hot.” He says eyes wide, tensing his body.
I laugh; he’s so dang cute, “Yes they will be hot.” I say.
Henri looks over my shoulder while I pay; his little voice is so loud under the open air space. “MoMo! Fanky!” I feel like I just lost an eardrum.
Molly and Frankie come up and nuzzle Henri who squeals with delight. I take the tray of fries and ask for a dish of ranch dressing; Henri’s favorite. I don’t get three feet from the table before he is staking claim on the slivers of fried potatoes. “My fries.” He says taking one between his chubby digits. “Hot Mamma; blow.”
I blow on the fry; he smiles and aggressively puts it in his mouth. Frankie and Molly locate a table close to the small jazz band playing. I set Henri in a seat and take a fry for myself as the girls decide what to eat.
Frankie puts the tiny menu down, “So…spill Babe.” She says attracting Molly’s attention as well.
“Ooh yeah, who was he Babe? Frankie is convinced he’s playing for the proper team.” Molly says smiling.
I playfully avoid the inquisition by shifting in my chair to engage Molly, “Your hair looks so great! Did I tell you that last night?”
They both roll their eyes, before Frankie humorously demands, “Confess!” They are both staring and I can’t help but laugh out loud.
“Okay, okay. No, he’s not gay.” I relinquish, taking another one of Henri’s fries.
“See, I told you!” Frankie howls sitting back in her chair.
“I’m sorry ya’ll, I just…wanted to avoid this conversation last night. By the way Molly, it was a great party.”
“Thanks, I sold every piece.”
“That’s wonderful, congratulations!” I exclaim.
“Thanks.” She says adjusting her glasses.
“Uh uh, Babe. I want to know more about Cian.” Frankie says his name like it’s a sexual mantra.
I laugh, but every time I hear his name my body resonates with desire. I can’t hide anything from my girls and this is no different.
“Estella works late, so he and I are always hanging out. I asked him to your show, Molly, because he is a huge fan of your work.” I explain. Molly makes a “who knew?” face and picks up the menu.
“Aunt Estella? I’ve known you your whole life. Who is she?” Frankie asks.
I’ve got this. Anything regarding my father is a conversation killer amongst my friends, “She is my Daddy’s illegitimate sister.” I say sadly.
“Wow, really?” Molly exclaims.
“But, Babe. Isn’t it strange she shows up after Griffin…?” Frankie trails off.
“I thought that too, but after I talked to my Mamma, I felt better about her.”
“So, your Mamma knew?”
“Yeah. You know how families keep things like that under lock and key. Beauregard’s are no different.” I say nonchalantly
“Okay so that is Estella. Cian…he’s got this air about him, a strange aura. Do you pick that up Babe?” Frankie asks.
Molly chimes in, “Yeah and he didn’t take his eyes off you all night, like he was your bodyguard or something…” she trails off but I can see her gearing up.
I hold my hand up to stop her rendition of the famous song from the famous movie, “Don’t.”
“Aw, come on,” Molly is playfully disappointed; “I do a great Dolly Parton.” She folds her arms across her chest.
Frankie takes a fry from Henri who smiles at her as she does so, she then corroborates Molly’s observations, “Yeah, when you and Braxton were talking it looked as though he was going to have a coronary.” She finishes chewing.
“What do you mean by strange aura?”
“Well, I saw how he was watching you and I grabbed his arm. It was cold, like unnaturally cold.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what that is.” I lie. “You grabbed him?” I ask humorously.
“Sure did, he didn’t seem to like it either.” She stops to gaze at Henri, “We are just concerned for you is all Babe. We love you.”
“I love ya’ll, please don’t be worried about me.” I say and I hope that this conversation is over.
It is, Frankie reaches over and snatches the menu from Molly’s hands. Henri sees this; Molly sees Henri her eyes widen and opens her mouth as if what Frankie did was a surprise. They both laugh.
________________________________________________________________________________
Frankie is still watching me closely. After eventually explaining EVERYTHING to her and Molly about Cian, Estella and my Daddy my girls were more concerned for me than when they met Cian. Eventually after many glasses of wine, they came to understand and all was copasetic.
“My Daddy hinted at going back to Emerald Isle. I think Cian may be there, of course I will know for sure once I cross that state line.” I say rolling my eyes.
Frankie is smiling, “I’m glad you are going through with the test. I still don’t know why you didn’t tell us in the beginning?”
“Frank, you know I couldn’t, mostly because I really didn’t grasp it all myself. Where I really come from? Who I may be and what I might be capable of? If I had said something and you or Molly were hurt or killed because of me, I don’t know...” I begin to tear up.
“Oh, my Lord, Babe I didn’t mean to upset you!” She says chastising herself.
I take a deep breath to calm myself, “No, it’s not you. I’m sorry, I guess that proves you all right; I do need to…” I trail off, shake that and resume with a smile, “But as far as seeing him again I too think it will strengthen us.” I say shrugging.
“It’s all so crazy.” Frankie is shaking her head and smiling.
“Crazy is the understatement of the century.” We both laugh.
Frankie sets the alarm as we walk out of the salon. On the way to our reserved parking Frankie says, “So when do you leave?”
I unlock my car and throw my bag in the passenger side, “You know, he didn’t mention that.”
“Well, call me later when you find out.”
“Will do, be careful!” I holler while getting into my car.
Babet's Epiphany
http://www.amazon.com/Babets-Epiphany...
See who I pictured when I wrote Babet's Epiphany!! http://www.pinterest.com/augustafern/...
It’s August, and August in New Orleans is hotter than the bluest blazes of hell. It’s been six months. Six months since I last saw…a lot can happen in six months. The tattoo gun vibrates my hand as I work but my thoughts are on all that has transpired. Scarlet is back at school and thriving; utilizing her minimal gifts. Henri is talking a mile a minute; colors, shapes, letters and numbers. My little tape recorder. Mamma is all consumed with the children; which has been a bit of a blessing for me. Searching for a new place is never easy, though my parents are over the moon that we are living at the house.
Luckily I was able to talk Frankie into letting me buy into her Pardido location and set up my tattoo business. Certification was less than difficult and given my reputation in the city I was able to bypass the apprentice process. With a portion of the insurance money from the fire I was to not only able buy all my equipment but renovate a nook for myself and my clients inside the salon.
The most interesting event during this time is my Daddy’s debut back into society, human and vampire alike. Questions of course were brought up, but Daddy fabricated some non-sense about witness protection and plastic surgery for the humans. He needed no excuses for the vampires, his reputation preceding him. And how he got the city to relinquish the house is beyond me. The house is busy, but not with tourists; my Daddy’s vampire coven are in and out at all hours of the night. I know this because I’ve become a borderline insomniac since Cian left.
When I don’t sleep, which is often, I paint. Albeit manically and occasionally while crying incessantly. My old room is littered with canvases, paint tubes and brushes. Mamma made me cover the entire floor with a tarp so not to destroy the original hardwoods and Daddy takes each piece as soon as it’s complete. I take a picture of it and upload it to my tablet for future reference, but because of the fire and ALL my work going up in flames Daddy locks the finished pieces away in his fire proof vault room. So far I’ve painted and Daddy has locked away, eighteen portraits; most of the paintings are depictions of what happened that March night. I also painted Mamma and Daddy as they are now, along with portraits of Scarlet and Henri. The house grounds are the perfect backdrop.
On a personal level I had a friend permanently ink Mora’s final death on my left bicep. My tattoo shows human warrior goddess Collette, her spiked heels implanted in Mora’s clavicles, staking her from overhead. I embellished it a little. I get lots of comments on it, “Where did you come up with the idea?” They ask. Of course I cannot divulge such information, stating it came to me in a dream.
Another visible change is my hair, which shocks even me when I look in the mirror. I let Frankie talk me into an A-line razor bob. It looks great and I feel like a new person but I wonder what he will think when…if he sees me. I get a nauseous pinging in my stomach at this thought.
The good always comes with a little bad and the negativity of our new lives is small, but it’s relevant. Griffin’s mother attempted to blackmail my Daddy; claiming she knew he had something to do with her son’s death. She was so adamant that when she arrived at the house to discuss the situation she disowned Henri completely. If I was honest with myself I would say, Good Riddance. I know she didn’t like me when I married her only son; but she was always very harsh with regard to Scarlet. She showed her true colors and left with a check. The money wasn’t to keep her quiet; my Daddy didn’t care if she said anything to anyone, it was to keep her out of our lives.
My thought are interrupted by Calista LeBeau; my last client of the day,“Ooh!”
She and I attended high school together and she has always been one of the few girls I can consider a friend. She is a sprite of a girl. Petite and thin, she has shoulder length reddish brown hair almost the color of Dr. Pepper. I’m tattooing an intricate Celtic knot on her right forearm. She recently married into an Irish family and wanted to reflect her husband’s heritage.
“Sorry Calista,” I say hoping my hand didn’t get too heavy. I change the subject, “What is your new last name Mrs.?”
“Please, Babe. Tattoos hurt and I am officially Calista Keever.” She holds her head up pompously, then laughs as I continue.
“Keever; that’s a good, strong, Irish name. Congratulations; again.” I say smiling, keeping my eyes on her arm.
“Thanks!” I hear the elation of being a new bride in her voice.
Frankie rounds the corner of my little nook, “Hey; your Dad is on line four.”
“Thanks Frank.” I say as she turns to go back to her client. I look over to Calista who is admiring her new ink, “You mind if we take a break Calista?”
“Take your time Babe.”
“Thanks.” I remove my gloves, discarding them in the trashcan by my door.
I don’t keep a phone in my part of the salon, it’s too distracting ringing off the hook all day. But that’s success isn’t it and Frankie is successful.
Very successful, the shop is still loaded. Every chair is full even though the sun has gone down and the hair is flying. I get hit with the smell of ammonia and sulfur; color, perm, and cuts; highlight and lowlight, waxing, tanning, nails…and tattoo. It’s a lucrative business for sure.
Frankie hands me a cordless phone from her station, “Your Daddy calling here is going to take some getting used to.” She laughs, I reciprocate.
“Daddy?”
“Hey baby girl, how’s your day today?” My Daddy is so sweet but I can hear something behind it.
“Good, just finishing up for the day.”
“Oh yeah? Who’s in your chair at the moment?” My Daddy is so fascinated by my newest endeavor.
“Calista LeBeau, now Keever; she said to tell you welcome home.” I sound just as sweet waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“She’s such a nice girl, good family the LeBeau’s. Tell her Congratulations from your Mother and me.” He says and then he is silent.
“Daddy, you there?”
“Yeah…sorry I was taking paperwork from Alistair. Babe, I have an actor friend from Sweden who will be in Wilmington filming a movie…” he trails off again.
“Wilmington, North Carolina? Daddy?” I hear background voices and rustling papers.
“Yes, would you be interested in taking an au pair job for the next couple of months? I know its short notice but you can paint while you’re there and I know for a fact he is interested in having you paint his son’s portraits.”
I’m silent at first swirling everything together. I would have a lot of affairs to get in order before I go, if I go. I would need to discuss it with Frankie…and Scarlet.
My Daddy doesn’t let me answer, “I’ve discussed it with Frankie and she agrees you need some time away.”
My brow furrows as I begin to feel as if I’m being plotted against, “You talked to Frankie?” My tone is harsh.
“Babe, before you get upset, we all feel that, you threw yourself into work after everything in March. You received the insurance money and immediately talked to Frankie. You got certified and boom started. You don’t sleep, we all know you don’t. You need a vacation, honey.” His tone is pleading.
I can’t say no to my Daddy, “Of course Daddy, a working vacation.” I laugh.
“Think of it as a way to expand your new portfolio, besides you may get some time to go back to Emerald Isle, since those paintings are gone.”
I gasp and I know this is a hint if not a coax from my Daddy, “Thanks Daddy.” I say like I did when I was a little girl.
“I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you.”
I hang up the phone and turn to see the entire salon staring at me. I feel flush as they all resume their previous tasks except Frankie who is waiting for me to tell her I will need some time off. She winks at me, I roll my eyes and a smile comes from the side of my mouth.
“Can we talk later?” I ask.
“Of course, darlin’!” She squeals before applying another foil.
The salon is finally closed and everyone but Frankie and I have gone. I’m cleaning my nook while she pours over the day’s numbers. I peek my head in her door after I’m done to discuss my “vacation” time.
“Hey.” I say sitting in one of two ultra modern chairs, my tone is wary.
“Hey.” Frankie says smiling.
“Okay, so what did my Daddy say to you?” I ask laying it all out on the table.
“He said he had an artistic opportunity for you and I agreed that you could use some time off. If not from the shop; the city.”
I nod my head silently.
“He said he could get a replacement, but I told him you wouldn’t like that. He understood.” Frankie is such a good friend and knows me so well. “I told him not to worry and I’m telling you the same. Babe, you need closure from it all. Griffin’s death, your studio and your Dad coming back. I swear girl, you are strong as steel. I would be in a straight jacket if it were me.”
Frankie exaggerates; she is one of the strongest women I know. Starting her business at such a young age and being a successful entrepreneur takes serious guts and Frankie has them for sure.
“Two months though?”
“Yes, but how long have you been trying to get back to North Carolina? Thirteen years?” Frankie eyes me speculatively.
“That’s true.”
“And Cian?”
Again the sound of his name brings butterflies to my stomach and my heart in my throat. I will never forget the conversation with Frankie and Molly about my Scottish friend.
_________________________________________________________________________________
My cell vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans as I walk through the grocery store and I know by the ringtone it’s Frankie. Queen’s of the Stone Age “Little Sister” plays until I press the talk button.
“Hey girly!” I say with exuberance because I know exactly where this is headed.
“Hey yourself, Babe.” Her tone is humorously inquisitive.
“What are you up to today?” I ask
“Nice try Babe, what is up with that gorgeous man you were with at Molly’s party?”
I laugh, “He’s just a friend.” A friend who has me irrevocably vexed. A wave of sexual tension rises when I remember our kiss.
“Mmhhmm.” She says and I hear the laughter coming. “A friend of Aunt Estella?”
“Yes.” I say pushing the cart mindlessly. Henri is pointing and trying to grab everything.
“Where are you right now?”
“The grocery store, why?”
“Come have lunch with me and Molly. Its 10:30 now, meet us at Gazebo Café at 12:00.”
“Okay, I have Henri though.”
“Aw, petite Henri!” She shrills.
“Ha, he’s not that small anymore. Listen, I will finish up here and head back to Estella’s to unload. I’ll see you girls in an hour and half.”
“Yay! Okay, Luvies!” Frankie sings.
“Luvies.” I mirror.
I get what we need for the week, pay and load my car. After securing Henri in his seat I drive back to Audubon. Henri at two is already a big helper, carrying the bread for me. I pile the bags on the granite counter and begin to unload the groceries. All the while I am checking the time, it’s nearly 11:15 and I definitely can’t go to lunch with the girls in jeans and a t-shirt. I scoop up Henri and head upstairs, he points at the cannon style bed and I oblige him after removing his shoes. He jumps up and down on it while I slip on a pair of crimson and cream damask shorts, boat neck long-sleeved shirt and flip flops. I gather my hair into a ponytail and grab Henri off the bed to make my way down the stairs.
Back in the car the clock reads 11:36. If I can make it to Gazebo before the girls, I can settle Henri with some French Fries and ranch dressing. Parking isn’t the easiest feat near the Square, but I get lucky. I hold Henri’s hand as we walk through the vendor tables, bending to him when he points to something. I explain what it is and he repeats. We luckily make it to the café before Molly and Frankie; I immediately order Henri’s fries.
“Fries!” He says, “My fries.”
“Yes, your fries. They have to cook.” I explain.
“Ooh Hot.” He says eyes wide, tensing his body.
I laugh; he’s so dang cute, “Yes they will be hot.” I say.
Henri looks over my shoulder while I pay; his little voice is so loud under the open air space. “MoMo! Fanky!” I feel like I just lost an eardrum.
Molly and Frankie come up and nuzzle Henri who squeals with delight. I take the tray of fries and ask for a dish of ranch dressing; Henri’s favorite. I don’t get three feet from the table before he is staking claim on the slivers of fried potatoes. “My fries.” He says taking one between his chubby digits. “Hot Mamma; blow.”
I blow on the fry; he smiles and aggressively puts it in his mouth. Frankie and Molly locate a table close to the small jazz band playing. I set Henri in a seat and take a fry for myself as the girls decide what to eat.
Frankie puts the tiny menu down, “So…spill Babe.” She says attracting Molly’s attention as well.
“Ooh yeah, who was he Babe? Frankie is convinced he’s playing for the proper team.” Molly says smiling.
I playfully avoid the inquisition by shifting in my chair to engage Molly, “Your hair looks so great! Did I tell you that last night?”
They both roll their eyes, before Frankie humorously demands, “Confess!” They are both staring and I can’t help but laugh out loud.
“Okay, okay. No, he’s not gay.” I relinquish, taking another one of Henri’s fries.
“See, I told you!” Frankie howls sitting back in her chair.
“I’m sorry ya’ll, I just…wanted to avoid this conversation last night. By the way Molly, it was a great party.”
“Thanks, I sold every piece.”
“That’s wonderful, congratulations!” I exclaim.
“Thanks.” She says adjusting her glasses.
“Uh uh, Babe. I want to know more about Cian.” Frankie says his name like it’s a sexual mantra.
I laugh, but every time I hear his name my body resonates with desire. I can’t hide anything from my girls and this is no different.
“Estella works late, so he and I are always hanging out. I asked him to your show, Molly, because he is a huge fan of your work.” I explain. Molly makes a “who knew?” face and picks up the menu.
“Aunt Estella? I’ve known you your whole life. Who is she?” Frankie asks.
I’ve got this. Anything regarding my father is a conversation killer amongst my friends, “She is my Daddy’s illegitimate sister.” I say sadly.
“Wow, really?” Molly exclaims.
“But, Babe. Isn’t it strange she shows up after Griffin…?” Frankie trails off.
“I thought that too, but after I talked to my Mamma, I felt better about her.”
“So, your Mamma knew?”
“Yeah. You know how families keep things like that under lock and key. Beauregard’s are no different.” I say nonchalantly
“Okay so that is Estella. Cian…he’s got this air about him, a strange aura. Do you pick that up Babe?” Frankie asks.
Molly chimes in, “Yeah and he didn’t take his eyes off you all night, like he was your bodyguard or something…” she trails off but I can see her gearing up.
I hold my hand up to stop her rendition of the famous song from the famous movie, “Don’t.”
“Aw, come on,” Molly is playfully disappointed; “I do a great Dolly Parton.” She folds her arms across her chest.
Frankie takes a fry from Henri who smiles at her as she does so, she then corroborates Molly’s observations, “Yeah, when you and Braxton were talking it looked as though he was going to have a coronary.” She finishes chewing.
“What do you mean by strange aura?”
“Well, I saw how he was watching you and I grabbed his arm. It was cold, like unnaturally cold.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what that is.” I lie. “You grabbed him?” I ask humorously.
“Sure did, he didn’t seem to like it either.” She stops to gaze at Henri, “We are just concerned for you is all Babe. We love you.”
“I love ya’ll, please don’t be worried about me.” I say and I hope that this conversation is over.
It is, Frankie reaches over and snatches the menu from Molly’s hands. Henri sees this; Molly sees Henri her eyes widen and opens her mouth as if what Frankie did was a surprise. They both laugh.
________________________________________________________________________________
Frankie is still watching me closely. After eventually explaining EVERYTHING to her and Molly about Cian, Estella and my Daddy my girls were more concerned for me than when they met Cian. Eventually after many glasses of wine, they came to understand and all was copasetic.
“My Daddy hinted at going back to Emerald Isle. I think Cian may be there, of course I will know for sure once I cross that state line.” I say rolling my eyes.
Frankie is smiling, “I’m glad you are going through with the test. I still don’t know why you didn’t tell us in the beginning?”
“Frank, you know I couldn’t, mostly because I really didn’t grasp it all myself. Where I really come from? Who I may be and what I might be capable of? If I had said something and you or Molly were hurt or killed because of me, I don’t know...” I begin to tear up.
“Oh, my Lord, Babe I didn’t mean to upset you!” She says chastising herself.
I take a deep breath to calm myself, “No, it’s not you. I’m sorry, I guess that proves you all right; I do need to…” I trail off, shake that and resume with a smile, “But as far as seeing him again I too think it will strengthen us.” I say shrugging.
“It’s all so crazy.” Frankie is shaking her head and smiling.
“Crazy is the understatement of the century.” We both laugh.
Frankie sets the alarm as we walk out of the salon. On the way to our reserved parking Frankie says, “So when do you leave?”
I unlock my car and throw my bag in the passenger side, “You know, he didn’t mention that.”
“Well, call me later when you find out.”
“Will do, be careful!” I holler while getting into my car.
Babet's Epiphany
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